


All My Heart And Half My Mind

by vaderina



Series: Prompt Fills [17]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Identity Issues, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 16:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: For this anon prompt: Newt helps find Percival, obv, and because of that and other reasons idk he falls for Newt but is worried Newt won't reciprocate. In the meantime, Newt gets a stalker escalating from photos to stealing clothes to leaving threatening notes etc. Plot twist, it's an Id personality that developed to protect Percival following his capture and it refuses to not have Percival with the man who saved them.





	All My Heart And Half My Mind

Forming any sort of relationship or friendship after Grindelwald was not just difficult, it was nigh on impossible. Percival found himself second guessing intentions, seeing the worst in everyone, their kindness was something they could hold over him only to rip away when he finally felt lulled into an almost comfort. The healers encouraged him to make friends outside of the workplace or at least outside of his department. It wasn’t good for anyone to be seen as boss first then acquaintance second. That never made for an equal, balanced friendship. So, despite his misgivings, Percival tried. He made himself vulnerable by not just making small talk but also suggesting shared coffees with various people. At lunchtimes he sat in the canteen, at first by himself then he asked if he could join tables. It was hard going, sometimes it was impossible. Rarely though it paid off. A regular recurrence in his day to day life was Newt. The man always seemed happy to see him, had time to spare no matter what was going on around them and was a well of patience as Percival stumbled through social niceties.

It was just as well neither of them were very well suited to small talk. Once they bumbled through that and both flushed in embarrassment at how badly they were doing, confessed that perhaps that wasn’t their forte, it became so much easier. Newt sat with him during lunch times, accompanied him on his walks home, brought him coffee when Percival himself didn’t have time to grab one between meetings. Their friendship was easy, it was perfect. And it was all too easy for Percival to start feeling like he wanted more. He never dared overstep the boundaries of their friendship. Fear of losing Newt far outweighed the potential additional happiness of not just treasuring his friendship but also having him as a very willing bed mate. So Percival quietly settled in to pine from a distance and enjoy the company Newt was willing to offer him.

There were flowers on Newt’s desk one morning. It made Percival frown and Newt looked just as flustered. The note was a simple “you look beautiful today” and they agreed that perhaps it was meant for someone else but the delivery had been to the wrong desk. Newt brushed it off, admitted he was a little relieved as he didn’t think he could engage in any kind of relationship with someone who wouldn’t approach him face to face. Incident forgotten, they went out for a later dinner and parted ways for their respective homes after a good meal.

A few days later a box of Newt’s favourite chocolates waited for him on his desk.

“ _Your smile outshines the sun Newt.”_

The note left no doubt as to who the intended recipient was this time. Newt sent the box of chocolates to be tested for all manner or poisons and potions. Once it had been given the all clear he offered the chocolates to the department but refused to have any himself. That evening before he left Newt left a note on his table. In it he thanks his anonymous benefactor for the chocolates and flowers but asked that they stop because it wasn’t making Newt feel comfortable or safe.

The gifts stopped after that and Newt relaxed a little. His time was taken up by work, his creatures and the little time he could spare on his friendships. One evening he was out with Tina, Queenie and Jacob. They were sharing a wonderful meal filled with stories, tales of mishaps and ridiculous accomplishments. Newt returned home warm and happy.

The next day, just before lunchtime a pigeon landed on his desk, a letter tied to its leg. Curious, Newt thanked the pigeon for its delivery and took the letter. His frown deepened when he saw that inside was a photo or him laughing. It was zoomed in, only his face visible but the blur in the background looked like Tina. The picture was from the night before. Newt’s blood ran cold as he flipped the picture.

“ _That smile is mine, don’t waste it on anyone else.”_

Scared and at a loss as to what to do Newt did the only thing he could think of. He hurried to Percival who took one look at the photo and message before barking out orders. Within minutes the department was on full alert, Newt was to be escorted to and from home, his house was to be protected by spells which would alert the department if anyone broke through them. At lunch Percival offered to spend if with Newt regardless of everything else and relieved, Newt accepted.

There were no more photos for a while and people relaxed. Until a few weeks later a pigeon landed on Newt’s desk again. The envelope held another photo with the word “you” stamped on the back. It was a picture of Newt smiling as an auror escorted him home. Another pigeon landed the next day, again a photo of Newt, this time in his kitchen window watering his plants, the back of the photo said “are”. When the third pigeon showed up, Newt opened it with Percival and the aurors gathered around him. His hands were shaking. A slew of photographs spilled from the envelope. Or Newt smiling, laughing, reading, shopping. Each picture had the word “mine” written boldly and fiercely in thick black pen on its back.

The aurors doubled their efforts. They never let Newt out of their sight, Percival was all but stuck to him. Still, when Newt came in without his usual scarf and a pout people looked at him warily.

“I’m sure I just left it somewhere,” Newt reassured everyone as he searched for his scarf. It was such a shame he’s misplaced it, it held so many memories. The scarf was nowhere to be found and Newt resigned himself to having to get a new one. He didn’t dare wear the one that turned up on his desk a few days later. A very fine silk scarf with a red trim. It was obviously expensive, the decorative box it had come in made no allusions about it either. But nobody saw who had put the box on his desk, much like the pigeons couldn’t be traced. They came from all over the city and held no clues to the identity of Newt’s stalker.

“I want you to move desks, come work at the spare on with the aurors,” Percival suggested, “you could even borrow my desk if you’d like, just until this is all resolved.”

Newt nodded, subdued by the unwanted attention he was getting. He moved his things to his new desk which was directly opposite Percival’s door. The man stopped closing his office since his return so he kept an eye on Newt and his desk at all times.

The soft knock on Percival’s door had him lifting his head in surprise. Newt stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee.

“Looked like you could use it,” Newt offered and Percival took it with a heartfelt thanks. He watched Newt whose eyes roamed the office until his eyes caught on something.

“There it is!” he cried and dove for the box on Percival’s shelf. The corner of his scarf peeked out and Newt crowed with delight as he wrapped it around his neck.

“You  must have left it here the other week. Perhaps the cleaning staff moved it out of the way,” Percival said as he eyed Newt.

“Thanks Percy,” Newt’s smile was wide as he ran his fingers over and over his scarf. The nickname made something deep in Percival’s chest echo warmth and pleasure.

The next morning Newt came in, eyes red as though he’d been crying. He clutched a note in his hand as he marched through the aurors.

“ _I do not like being told no. Wear your new scarf or your creatures will suffer.”_

It was written on the back of a photo - Newt, asleep in his bed. If the circumstances had been different Percival would have taken a moment to admire Newt’s bare form, modesty only covered by a blanket. However as it was he could only reassure Newt that they will find the person responsible.

“I want you to move in with me. Just until this all blows over,” he asked Newt and was relieved at the nod he got.

That evening Newt knocked on his door, suitcase in hand, looking haggard. Percival showed him in, gave him a tour of the house. The kitchen, the living room, Percival’s room, Newt’s room, the bathroom.

“What’s that room?” Newt asked curiously as he eyed the closed door. It looked sealed off, the glass above the door covered thick with newspapers.

“I don’t go in there. Not yet anyway. It’s where Grindelwald kept me,” Percival replied and avoided looking at the door. Newt nodded in understanding and left it at that. He knew all too well what it was like to have old wounds prodded at too soon.

Life with Percival was nice, they walked to and from work together, shared the burden of cooking and even found they both liked to read in the evenings. Percival wished Newt could stay with him forever.

The morning they got to work together there was an uproar. The whole department was outside while a select few guarded the door.

“What’s going on?” Percival demanded. When he and Newt were noticed they were ushered into the bullpen. All the tables had been pushed to the side of the room. Photos of Newt covered every surface. Pictures from months ago and even pictures from a few nights ago. There was one single photo on the floor, it was of Newt curled up in his new bed in Percival’s house.

“ _You cannot escape.”_

The words were sprayed onto the floor and each letter was carved around, leaving deep scored marks on the wooden floor. Newt let out a whimper and turned into Percival’s waiting embrace. Cheeks tear stained he left the room with Percival who barked orders at his aurors. He sent Newt ahead to return home with an escort before he left the Woolworth Building not 10 minutes later.

“Newt?” he asked as he pushed through the door. There was no answer save for a light snuffle. He looked at Newt sleeping on his couch and left to get the tea on.

The next day they agreed that Newt would look through the photos to see if there was anything common about them. Whether he could remember anyone in the vicinity that looked suspicious. Percival himself had a rare day off but he walked Newt to MACUSA and returned home.

There were hundreds of photos to look through. Newt sat at his desk despairing as he flicked through one after the other. Next to him Queenie looked through them too, in case she spotted something out of the ordinary. There was a photo of Newt sitting on a park bench. The picture had obviously been taken from behind a bush. However the corner up the picture was darker. It was a finger.

“They’re left handed,” Newt said to Queenie and showed her the photo. That one they set aside. A little while later there was another photo, this time the tip of a well shined shoe glistened in the bottom just before the picture lurched back up at Newt taking a sip of tea at his kitchen table.

“Male,” Queenie concluded, “no woman would wear those shoes.”

“We’re doing very well, aren’t we? A left handed man. That really narrows things down,” Newt grumbled bitterly. He looked at the shoes again. Something about it niggled at the back of his mind. They didn’t get much further after that though and Newt let himself be escorted back home earlier than expected. He pushed to front door open tiredly.

“Percival?” he called but there was no reply. A pair of shiny shoes sat on the rack though so obviously Percival was home. “Percy?”

There was the sound of a door opening and Newt rushed towards it. Percival was stepping out of the locked room Grindelwald had kept him in. There was a smudge of silver across his forearm where his shirt was rolled up.

“You’re early,” he said. The door closed behind him but not before Newt could take a glance into the room. It was bathed in red light and there was what looked like a washing line adorned with pegs running along a wall.

“Percy?” Newt’s voice wobbled. He watched as Percival reached out for him. It was his left hand. Newt took a step back.

“Don’t try to run,” Percival growled harshly, “you’re mine.”

“Percy please, you’re scaring me,” Newt begged as he took another step back.

“You wouldn’t have to be scared if you just did as you’re told,” Percy replied with a snarl, “I don’t like it when what’s rightfully mine tries to leave.”

Tears spilt down Newt’s cheeks and he thumped heavily onto the sofa.

“Please stop this. This isn’t you,” Newt cried.

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Newt sniffled. Percival sat down next to him with a pleased smile.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Newt obediently shook his head. A few minutes passed and Percival looked up at Newt with puzzlement.

“Why are you crying Newt?”

Newt couldn’t reply. He looked at Percival then at the closed door. Decision made he darted to it before Percival could react. The door opened. Percival let out an anguished cry before he was by Newt’s shoulder. The blow and scuffled Newt was expecting never came.

“What in Merlin’s name?” Percival sounded astounded as he looked around. The room was full of pictures of Newt. The small bathing table was full of a solution to develop photos while others were drying on the clothes line. Newt’s favourite bow tie was pinned to the wall next to a photo of Newt staring lovingly at something. Whatever it had been was crossed out with a heavy black marker and a picture of Percival was pinned in its place.

“Newt?” Percival’s voice shook. Newt pushed past him and hurried to the door.

“I’m sorry Percy, I can’t do this. You’re sick, you need help and I’m not the one to give you that,” without another word Newt fled out the door. Percival walked into his living room in a daze, sat on his sofa and buried his hands in his hair. There was nothing left to do nut wait until his aurors came to take him away.

**Author's Note:**

> Got a prompt? @ladyoftheshrimp on tumblr is where to leave it.


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